


Cats and Dogs

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, M/M, Rain, Were-Creatures, despite the title there are no werewolves in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 18:56:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11515425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: There's a drowned cat in Mick's living room.





	Cats and Dogs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pretzel_logic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretzel_logic/gifts).



> For those taking part in this little fic exchange, there's an Ao3 collection if you wanted to add your work to it! I just thought it'd be a convenient way to keep track :D thank you so much for participating!
> 
> This is for pretzel-log1c's prompt for a coldwave werecreature au! Title based off the phrase, "raining cats and dogs."

Technically, Mick has a mansion. Somethin' he'd conned an idiot out of a while back. Hardly ever uses it, but sometimes you need a good place to shift, and fuck if he's goin' out in that shit.

Blue streaks the sky, followed by a crash of thunder that rattles the windows. Mick grumbles, but doesn't lift his head from under his wing. Marble floor's heated with his flame, fire's roaring in the fireplace. All's good.

The front doorknob jimmies for a second. Then the door is kicked open by a familiar boot.

Snickering, Mick leans his head into the entrance hall. He wants to the get the full picture.

Len looks  _offended_. Always does when it rains. Nose scrunched, pupils slit, mouth curling on a hiss, showing pearly white fangs. His fuzzy hood's soaked like the fur edging in his skin. Mick can practically see his tail bunching. As if Mother Nature decides to make it rain just to piss him off.

Mick would make a "poor kitty" comment, but he doesn't feel like it. Instead, he says, "Thought you were with Lisa."

"Change of plans," Len sneers, slamming the door just in time for another lightning strike. He really does hiss at that. "She's with her pretty reporter."

"Ah."

Len digs his toe in the heel of his other boot and yanks his feet out of them. Coat closet's shoved open. In goes Len, out comes a snow leopard.

Mick makes a rumbling in his chest, lifting his wing. Len slinks underneath and curls up, shooting occasional glares at the window as he attempts to lick the rain off. Mick helps with his head, ignoring the superfluous growls, spitting out fur as he goes. Not all of us want hairballs, thanks.

Eventually, Len relaxes into a lazy sprawl, warmed by Mick's inner flame and probably exhausted from the trip here. Mick'll admit it's gratifying to know that Len chose to drive three hours to him instead of choosing a convenient safe-house. He runs his big snout on Len's body, and while leopards can't purr, Len matches his rumble and lets himself drift.

After a little cat nap, maybe he'll make cocoa. Lenny makes the  _best_ cocoa. Mick will shift from his comfy scales for that cocoa.

But for now, Mick drapes his wing over both of their heads. The storm can't touch them here.

**Author's Note:**

> It's short, but I really hope you like it!


End file.
